The day my mother overdosed when I was fifteen, I made a promise to myself that I would leave my past behind and not let it define my future. Even if that meant leaving behind my one true love, singing. With time I slowly built a life for myself where my days were filled with school and my nights volunteering. Months after graduating college, a lucky chance landed me the position as the personal assistant to the gorgeous billionaire CEO of H.A.R.T.S Marketing and Advertising firm, Reece Knight. He brought me into a world of limousines, private jets, world traveling, and nights (and days) filled with indescribable pleasures I never thought I would know. I began living a life someone like me could have only ever dreamed about. A life I wouldn't give up at any expense, even if it meant denying myself once more of something I loved. But while Reece spent his time trying to help me get over my fears, I realized my past wasn't as far behind me as I thought.

"Come here." Reece took my hand, pulling me up until I was standing in between his straddled legs.

"Take your shoes off." He ordered with a heated glare as I quickly kicked off my flats.

"Now this." He said, slipping his fingertip under the hem of my shirt. I reached down pulling my shirt over my head, not questioning what he was having me do, just following his orders.

"Unbutton your jeans." He told me, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "Pull them down but don’t take them off." I didn't hesitate, only continuing to do as told. "Now turn around."

"Why?" I finally questioned.

"Just do it, Taylor." He demanded, taking hold of my hips and turning me around. "Bend over and pull them off." I bent over, sliding my jeans the rest of the way off as I felt the pad of his thumb run right over my pantie covered ass and they instantly became soaked.

"Come here." He pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him, now in just my bra and panties.

"You know I never got to take this ass." He smirked, grabbing a handful of each one of my ass cheeks and my body began to uncontrollably grind against him. Within seconds of rubbing my pussy against the bulge in his jeans, my panties went from just being soaked to me feeling my own juices leaking down my leg.

"I know." I responded and just talking about it had me aching more for my release.

"Have you thought about it?" He stared me down.

"Yes." I breathed out, still rubbing myself against him.

"A lot?"

"Yes." I pushed myself harder down onto his crutch, needing some relief for my aching pussy.

"Do you have lube?" He asked me and I shook my head "yes".

"I bought it a while ago but brought it with me just in case." I told him after finally finding my voice.

"Well it’s a good thing you did." He stood up, cupping my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked us straight to back of the plane, where the small bedroom was located. Once inside, he wasted no time tossing me on the bed then covering my body with his and crashing his lips into mine.

Bree Barcellona lives in the mistakenly unwonderful state of New Jersey. She spends her days (and nights) fueled with insane amounts of coffee and usually spends more time thinking about what she needs to do than actually doing it. You can find her knocking on wood at any given time, afraid she just jinxed herself or getting lost for hours on Pinterest trying to find new great quotes to live by. Singing with a Billionaire is her debut novel and the first book in the H.A.R.T.S CEOs series. Please contact her, she would love to speak to you!